Our family (and the world) lost a wonderful woman yesterday.  Sunday, June 26th at 7:20 p.m., my grandma slipped through the veil and, after 14 long years of wanting and waiting, finally got to be with my grandpa again.

I don't really know how to put this into words.  She was 92 years old, so of course we knew it was a matter of time.  But she had bounced back from so many ailments so many times that it seems inconceivable that she's really gone.

She was admitted into the hospital on Thursday, after she had fallen. The fall was not the cause of her death, nor even really a factor in it, although she broke 3 ribs that day.  Instead, believe it or not, her fall was a blessing. Here's why.  When she fell, her body was already in the process of shutting down.  If she hadn't fallen, she wouldn't have gone to the hospital.  If she hadn't gone to the hospital, her family wouldn't have had the chance to say goodbye.  As it was, her children, her grandchildren, and her great-grandchildren, as well as neighbors, friends, and her sister and brother in law all got to come and visit her.  We all got to give her a kiss and hold her hand and tell her how much we loved her.

I won't go into much detail about her time in the hospital, but I believe miracles occurred.  And I know for a certainty prayers were answered.  I know we are being watched over and comforted. And though it is hard and so strange to know that she's really gone, I know this is for the best.  That's not to say I'm glad she's gone.  There are so many things that I would change if I could.  But I'm actively looking for the blessings.  And you know what? I'm finding them.

My heart shattered yesterday.  It's not easy to lose someone you love and hold dear, and it doesn't get easier.   But my heart was also filled with love yesterday, and with so much gratitude that she's not suffering anymore.  As my cousin so beautifully stated, she wanted to be with her soldier again.  And now she is, and the thought of my grandparents being together again makes me cry tears of joy mixed with the tears of sorrow.  That's a blessing.

I have so many wonderful memories of my grandma and maybe next June 26th I'll post some.  I can't right now. It's still too raw.  But I hope that through all the pain she was in, and through the morphine, she heard what I was saying to her.  I believe she did.  And I will be forever grateful that I got to say goodbye and love on her and always know that the last words she said to me were, "I love you, Lyndsie."

I love you too, Grandma. And I always will.